After officially releasing RESCUE last month and playing a couple of shows to promote the record, I’ve been extraordinarily grateful to all you folks who have given me your evenings and your ears to come hear the band play. It has been fun to get better and better each time we perform and share that progress with those of you who are coming along this ride with us. We received a lot of positive feedback from our friends and family who came out to see the release show and it made me think about all of the local band shows I’ve seen here in San Antonio and other places.

That said, I was thinking of a few things I would recommend when you decide to go out and hear some kick-ass live music in Alamo City. The following list is not exclusive and I’m certain those of you with far more experience and years in this town could certainly add to it:

Leverage the local music calendars on a regular basis to find something cool to go to.The Current and Do210 both have exhaustive calendars curated both by the editors of the respective platforms and user-submitted events.

Take a fucking Uber. Or a Lyft. Or a cab. Or a chauffeured dual-horse chariot, just please don’t drive if you are going to be drinking or “recreating.” I don’t know when surge pricing is, but if you call an Uber at 3AM on a Saturday in the middle of a torrential downpour, yes, you may pay a little extra. This is still a much better scenario than driving while you are impaired, injuring or killing yourself, a passenger, another person, or getting arrested and a DWI ruining your life.

Grab your crew! Everything is better when we’re together. Teamwork makes the dream work, etc. Get a friend or friends and venture out (split the cost of the Uber).

Eat somewhere great. Be thankful you live in San Antonio. Find a food truck. Don’t count calories. Order the queso. Are you rock and roll, or rock and small?

Bring money to tip your bartenders and buy the band’s merch. Make a hard-working bartender’s night and take home a cool souvenir from your night out. Your kids or future robot overlords will loving looking at your record or rock t-shirt collection. You’re also (seriously) helping a musician or band make rent and be able to continue producing music.

Know thyself. Maintain. “Take a fucking Uber” could be rolled into this, but ultimately this is about knowing yourself, your situation, what you are putting in your body, and then keeping yourself together and having a nice time. Enough said: Know thyself. Maintain.

Be excellent to each other. If you are at a local show you are participating in a community. The band, the audience, the people who work in the venue: you will see these people again, I promise you. It’s remarkable what a small world we live in. Don’t ruin some other person’s night by being violent, racist, sexist, misogynistic, homophobic, too drunk, or just being a plain jerk. We’re here to have fun and none of that stuff is fun.

Be careful going home (TAKE A FUCKING UBER) Be sure to pay your tab at the bar, grab some merch, creep on the band and tell them how much they mean to you, and TAKE A FUCKING UBER.

Come out and enjoy a live show with us at The Mix this weekend September 15th at 10PM. My good friends Union Specific will be opening the show for us. Hope to see you there!

RESCUE Record Release party, August 25th, 2018, Ventura in San Antonio TX

It’s not really “The Morning After,” but yesterday doesn’t count because we were all dead from too much rock’n’roll.

The setlist:A Werewolf's Been ThereLucy, Tell me a SecretThe Balcony SongBear-filled WoodsGetaway (Snitches get Stitches)GrayscaleCome Back HomeFake PearlsAdelineAll of the Nice ThingsOver and Over AgainI Get So ScaredThe LaboratoryThe Label On Your SleeveSlip Away (cover from Perfume Genius)

This past Saturday The Sleuth and I took the stage at Ventura here in San Antonio and played the new album RESCUE from top to bottom–and then some. Though we have only played a few shows, it will be hard to match the enthusiasm, energy, and love from the massive crowd turnout we had at Ventura. It was packed! I spoke to many of you after the show and I was delighted that for a lot of you this was the first local show you had intentionally attended in a long time–and you had a blast!

This show is the culmination of many years and many friends helping along the way. I'd like to give a shout-out first and foremost to Michael Carrillo at Ventura for hosting us and making us sound so good on stage. Mikey cares about this and always wants to get it right--SO THANK YOU.

One of the challenges of recording a record at home and then finding a band after the fact to perform it is capturing the emotion, energy, and clarity from a recorded platform and then transferring it to a live band performing the same song on stage. It doesn’t sound the same–and I think that’s good. I think we all know deep down somewhere that this is one of the joys of seeing live music: you never know what you’re going to get.

Performing the tunes with the exact same personnel as on the record (with the exception of an understandably absent Andrew McGregor) was another aspect of the show that made the release so special. That performance may be the only time one would hear Mark Henne on drums along with the rest of the group on the record (Mark’s not dying or anything, he just lives in Austin and plays in 400 bands for a living, so when we get him it’s a special occasion).

So in the end, I was sandwiched between big groups of friends: my friends in the band playing my songs, and my friends in the audience, listening and dancing and opening up their hearts to my weird little living-room recorded music. It’s a big, beautiful feeling I wish I could give to someone I love.

That afternoon I also stopped by the studio of KSYM 90.1, San Antonio College’s student run radio station and sat down with Hot Mustard and DJ Pyramid to talk about the release party and the record. This was another, more embarrassing, dream of mine that I wouldn’t normally share unless I was somehow invited to do it: I love college radio. I would follow college radio into battle. When this civilization ends and the next group comes in after us tasked with picking up the pieces of our forgotten and broken society, I hope that the first sound they hear when they roll the dial on their field transistor radios somewhere, somehow, will be the sound of a nervous college kid saying “Okay y’all, I just ventured out into the post-apocalyptic wasteland and traded a possum pelt for a copy of Death Rides a Pale Cow on cassette–so that’s what we’ll be listening to for the next 43 rock blocs.”

College radio was an oasis for me growing up. In Lubbock, TX we had a rock station, pop station, several tejano and religious stations, and then one little scrappy college radio station: KTXT 88.1. They played music I couldn’t hear anywhere else and somehow the only music that ever really excited me (right before I started playing guitar). To be invited to speak about my dumb little record on a college radio station was sweet–even though I forgot to scream into the studio mic begging you college kids to like me. Thank you again to Mustard, Pyramid, and KSYM for having me in!

The new record RESCUE is available now on vinyl, CD, and digital download. You can listen to the record and purchase it from Bandcamp here:

I spent my first couple of years here in San Antonio in a studio apartment near Castle Hills (though from the sound of the passenger jets screaming overhead, it might as well have been on the runway of the San Antonio International Airport). It was “cozy.” I had just moved here and I was still getting on my feet with a new job and finding my way around the city. My guitars, amps, my electric piano, stereo, records, and my recording equipment crowded out the small space and that is where they remained. Occasionally I found an open mic to play, but I found my endurance with staying out until 2AM to be lacking. I met really kind singer-songwriters trying to figure out their path as well and some of them even helped me out with playing my first shows here in the city. My best friend Clint Buck found a job here eventually and we started playing music again together as Buck Webb (Buck Webb, Greatest Band in Town, Bum, bum).

But most nights I would sit in the apartment playing guitar or recording music by myself. I had a group of songs I was doing countless demo takes—an exercise I now view as a waste of time. It seems like month after month would pass and I wasn’t getting any closer to making the recording I set out to make even before I moved here. Finding a rehearsal space was a problem. Finding a drummer to play on the record was a problem. Working in a small apartment with the planes screaming overhead was a problem.

And it began to wear on me.

I ate poorly, I drank too much, and I didn’t get enough sleep. Some of it was fun though—and there are those late nights playing and recording fueled by a focus and solipsism that only the loneliness and quiet of 3AM in a studio apartment in San Antonio can provide. But the rewards for this activity are few and not significant in the long term.

One day my favorite podcast featured celebrity-enabler Dr. Drew Pinsky on relationships:

“Go have a relationship. Have a good one, have a bad one, have a weird or temporary one—just go have one. You don’t change or grow as person on your own very much. Relationships change us, and that is good.”

And so I got a haircut, trimmed my beard, put on some clean clothes, ventured out of the apartment, and had a relationship with a woman—and she inspired me—not in the sense that I was writing narrative songs about my love for her, but rather she became my inspiration for wanting to be a better friend, boyfriend, son, brother, bandmate, musician, and person. The Laboratory is a song about the planning and isolation of pining for someone or the aching of wanting a dream. It is also the song on the record which features the title:

Science can’t explain the beating of my heartwhen I see your face.It can’t duplicate the rush of motion in my gaitwhen I see you again.‘Cause I got this disease, it makes me weak in my knees—Won’t you come rescue me.

Throwback Thursday, y'all. The Tease and the Terror. Probably 2005. Storage Space in Austin. Played one show to our girlfriends. This was it.

"I Get So Scared" is special for a couple of reasons. It is the oldest song on the new record and was the one song I felt needed to be brought back and re-recorded and dusted off a little bit. I wrote it while living in Austin and playing with my friend Nick Welp. We called ourselves The Tease and the Terror.

Like a lot of young musicians we were broke and couldn't afford a legitimate practice space long term, so we got an outdoor storage unit to use as a rehearsal space. Then we got kicked out of that storage unit because we were right next to an extended stay hotel and the guests nor the management appreciated the melodious sounds emanating off the concrete and steel. Then we moved to a different storage unit where the management was much more chill and we set up shop. This was one of my first adventures in home recording (or storage unit recording--same thing). You can see the old iMac in the corner of the photo. This picture is of the only "gig" we ever had. In a storage shed. For two people.

I've always liked "I Get So Scared" and the guitar sounds and harmonies were fun to develop on the new version. Listen to I Get So Scared available on RESCUE now:

Today we are doing something special with our “Sing Along” series where we discuss how the songs from RESCUE came into being. Today we BASS ALONG! Clint Buck, greatest man in town and bass player for The Sleuth talks about the song “Over and Over Again.”

Lubbock, 2009

Hollis first played Over and Over again for me back in 2009, not long after we had started playing together while in law school out in Lubbock. That night, we were playing at a house party/open mic/jam session with several of our friends, which was exactly the sort of activity we all needed to blow off steam and have some fun. I brought my sousaphone out for a couple tunes!

The bass line came together pretty quickly. While Hollis played the verse chords—well, over and over again—I played around moving up and down the neck. Eventually, this line fell into place:

*Hollis's note-- I said to Clint: "Play something like the intro to "In the Meantime" by Spacehog."

For the chorus, I started (like I usually do when I’m learning one of Hollis’ songs) by tracking Hollis’ chords and playing the tonic generally in line with his strumming pattern. The second time through the pattern, I wanted the bass line to have more of a “wheels off” feel to intimate a grown sense of anxiety before falling back into the verse riff. After experimenting with a few different variations, this is what I settled on:

It was simple enough, but it sounded exactly how I wanted it to underneath Hollis’ guitar and singing. It’s a fun song to play, and I always think about the early days of performing with Hollis when I do.

“All of the Nice Things” is the oldest song on RESCUE. It was written in 2007 and is a companion song to “The Most Awful Things” from DANGER. Why bring an old song back to a new record?

WHY NOT?

I try to listen to songs the way most people would listen to them (mainly focusing on the lyrics). I believe this is one of the more “lyrically coherent” tunes I’ve written. There are also some sweet moments in the song which lends itself a little more to the themes of redemption on RESCUE.

This tune deserves the whole lyric treatment for this post:

Beer and Queso and late-night TVScrabble and UNO and MonopolyI just can't figure out what's wrong with meIt's hard to sleep at nightI'm a boxer without a fightAnd the color of my shiner isn't as bright

All of the nice things aren't as nice without you

Scary moviesA comfy chairInappropriate clothingAn inappropriate stare

All of the nice things aren't nice without you

Penguins and puppies and small orphaned squirrelsswimming and porno and dancing with girlsI can't even get hungover anymoreWell it's hard to keep my eyes dryI'm a cold war without a spyand I'm a Loudon Wainwright “One Man Kind of Guy”

This is a photo of Harrison Ford from the 2015 film Age of Adeline. It has nothing to do with the song--I just like Harrison Ford.

"Adeline" was written after I moved to San Antonio in 2012 but was a song that went through a couple of iterations (none of which were performed live). It’s hard to describe what the song is about because it doesn’t really mean anything other than being set of lyrics that were appropriate for the song. It’s a “love” song in a loose sense because it is more of a “want” song.

I struggled with keeping these lyrics because they aren’t extraordinarily interesting but they do create a picture or feeling and I think they served the song. “Adeline” is not based on anyone or even a story or narrative. It’s a just a song that evolved over time--a boring, but quite common story in songwriting.

To hear what could have gone on the album, I give you “Adeline 1.0” or “Love is the Most Complicated Thing There Is.”

Hearing the song now, I have to say I’m fully aware that love is NOT the most complicated thing there is. There many things which are way more complicated—like space, or insurance.

And to compare, this is what the song turned into: “Adeline” on RESCUE available now!

“Fake Pearls” is a song about jewelry. This is another one of those songs that started out as a chorus:

So open up your heart and sing with meAll you missing pieces and broken jewelry.This world will never yield, it’s too damn tough.But I cut and I shine like a diamond in the rough.

Pretend you are a string of cheap, fake pearls: Where did you come from? What are you made of? What do you see? What things do you experience? Are you jealous of better, more expensive jewelry?

The arrangement and strings are courtesy of Andrew “The Mighty” McGregor. Andy also created an alternative mix which I released along with a demo version on limited 7". The 7''s are gone but you can still download it here!

I don’t remember specifically when “Come Back Home” came about but it was roughly around the time I was living in Arlington (2006-2008). I heard a news story about a guy who had boarded a plane knowing he had the measles and was contagious. At some point he was on house arrest and it gave me an idea for a song about the way desperate people will do desperate things to get where they want to go.

The only thing I regret about this song was throwing shade at Southwest Airlines. I have never had a bad flight with them and they should be considered more than just a discount airline. The only other thing I feel disingenuous in this song is the reference to the dirt bike. I have never driven a dirt bike and only once have I rode as a passenger on a motorcycle—a lamentable thing indeed because I feel like I would have loved being a “dirt bike” kind of guy.

“Grayscale” was inspired by an episode of Batman: The Animated Series.

There is an episode that particularly stuck out to me from my childhood entitled “Perchance to Dream.” Bruce Wayne wakes up after blacking out during some sort of criminal bust and finds his life to be completely different. His parents are still alive, Alfred is oblivious, and he is married to Selena Kyle. It turns out he is in some sort of dream created by Mad Hatter. One of the giveaways that he is living a dream is that fact that everything is in black and white because one cannot see color in dreams. This is actually not true—it is well documented that people can “see” color in dreams, but for the purpose of this song I ran with it.

Grayscale is a song about color and the black and white digital representation called grayscale. I had been playing around with a galloping rhythm and singing an anthemic melody and it turned into the chorus section. The verse sections became lyrically about other senses besides sight--a rule I developed to help me finish the song when what originally inspired me to move was a chorus section. Organs are kind of the star of this song. I recorded the organ sounds on the record from a little Hammer beginner organ my grandparents bought when they gave their piano to my parents. The thing weighs a thousand pounds and I’m glad it’s all over this record. It now lives with good old Clint Buck and I’m proud to report he is using it to terrorize his neighbors.

“Getaway (Snitches Get Stitches)” is about loyalty, sacrifice, complacency, and also a bank robbery. This is actually a song I wrote thinking I would play it with my friends Gunter Voelker of the band Jack Hotel and Tyler Wallace of Union Specific as a type of writing and recording over e-mail type of thing. We never ended up making it happen, but I got a song that seemed fun and interesting enough for the record.

I wrote this song thinking about the movie Dog Day Afternoon. The movie is based on a bizarre true story, but what stuck with me about the tale was this idea that the main character was doing this dangerous, crazy thing for another person (to pay for his boyfriend’s sex change). So I wrote this song about a guy who goes down in a bank robbery and his accomplice/getaway driver gets away. He’s not going to snitch because he’s confident that he’ll be able to escape and meet up with his partner. I also verbed a word. You are all welcome and encouraged to say that you “shawshanked” your way out of something.

I’d never tell, that just ain’t me;I’d rather be in prison with integrityI’ll figure out a bold escape;I’ll shawshank out and jump the gate.

Listen to the entirety of Getaway (Snitches Get Stitches) from the new album RESCUE here and please follow the links and consider picking up a copy of the record. The official album release is Aug. 25th at Ventura, 1011 Ave B, San Antonio, TX.

Photo found in trunk at Hollis's parent's house. Undated. Used for the cover of the album DANGER.

Bear-filled Woods is a song based on the joke:

Q: How fast do you have to be to outrun a bear in the woods?A: Just faster than you.

This song is about a terrible person luring another terrible person out into the woods to attract bears and see who can survive. If I’m not mistaken, I think that may have been the plot of the last Alien movie as well.

I Insisted we go camping.And that you wear your best perfumeAnd leave out all the picnic foodAnd I would wear my running shoes.

Cause when you start complainingand acting kind of rudeI think I’ll take my chancesand run into those bear-filled woods.

This is another song written in Lubbock. There’s a great and inspiring “turn” I feel from the audience once they get what the song is doing lyrically but when I perform it solo/acoustic I sound like a little mosquito on stage. This song deserves to get wild and heavy.

The tone of this song is darker than the joke and I don’t know how to be “dark” other than using a fake Heart Shaped Box style riff for the chorus.

The organ gets fun and banshee-like in the chorus to add to a feeling of chaos/surprise:

This song is a builder so many may not hear the acoustic guitars in the very last run through of the chorus that are giving a little bit of beef to the song to make it exciting:

And then we end with a classic “cha-cha-cha” at the end. There’s few things more difficult than figuring out how to end a song, so if you can borrow another method from others, I say do it. Screw the end of the song—it’s the end!

Hear Bear-filled Woods from the new album RESCUE in it’s entirety here:

I wrote the first lines of this song right after I graduated from college. I didn’t quite know what to do with it:

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel it’s afreight train drinking whiskey from a funnel

It sounded pretty unoriginal, but at the time “pretty unoriginal” was still original to me so I kept it stashed away in my special little notebook full of ideas and didn’t think about it for many years afterward. This type of song isn’t really my style and drinking lots of whiskey is a stupid subject—especially a metaphorical freight train doing it. It doesn’t even really make a lot of sense.

I resurrected this segment of a song for the 2011 Blue Light Live Singer/Songwriter Competition. The Blue Light Live is a special place to me and countless other musicians and lovers of live music in Lubbock. The Singer/Songwriter competition drew so many players not just from Lubbock, but from all over west Texas. The song has been a favorite of mine to play ever since then and is inspired by Lubbock, West Texas, and all of the amazing musicians playing music out there.

When it came down to record it for Rescue, I liked it as more of a light rock tune. I borrowed a 12-string guitar from the music store down the road to add a little color to the arpeggiated riff:

I call it the Balcony Song because I wanted a record of singing and playing it on the day I had fully written the tune and lyrics. I recorded it on the balcony of an apartment I hated, hence the title of the video. The name of the song “The Balcony Song” somehow to me sounds better than “Freight Train” or “I Can See the Light.” Yuck. It sounds like a declaration screamed from a balcony--perhaps as if someone is screaming at a balcony from below while having their belongings thrown out a multi-story window--something like that

On December 31st, 2013, I was invited to a New Year's Eve party by a friend from college here in San Antonio. When I walked in, I was confronted with a small, black dachshund who looked to be approximately 800 years old. At the party I met the most wonderful woman I'd ever encountered--a teacher and artist who loved the beach, ocean, and her small, old, black wiener dog named Lucy. When I arrived at my apartment on New Year’s Day at approximately 4AM, I took out my guitar and wrote this song about this dog and her owner who would later become my wife.

Lucy, Tell Me a Secret is supposed to sound like my best interpretation of The Cars, but instead it sounds like this:

You walk aroundwith your tail between your stubby legs.I pick you up and put you downYou’re not the type that begsLucy, tell me bout the girlwhose name is on your collarwould she make me want to holler and growl?Tell me, is she dating anybody?Is she an independent lady?Does she know that you’re out on the town?

Lucy tell me a secretTell me all of the things that I really want to knowI’ve been waiting for so longThis feeling in me is so strongI think I’ll just go on and ask about your girl.

I look aroundFor a gal that looks like she’s afraidCalling out your name and running in a panicked stateHey Lucy, why don't you introduce meto the girl who’s on your collar?Cause I really want to call her and say:“Your friend is resting nice and safelyAnd she’d like it if you’d date me,we work together so well."

"A Werewolf's Been There" was one of the first new songs written for RESCUE. As an album opener, it is supposed to have a nefarious-sounding opening (being the spiritual lead in from the previous album INVITES ) and then transition to a glorious, rocking, anthemic opening for an album about redemption, love, and friendship. It is a song sonically inspired in equal parts by Billy Joel, Vampire Weekend, and Queen.

The nefarious-sounding opening:

I don’t normally place a lot of serious weight or depth into the lyrics for the songs. If I say or think something interesting (not common) I use it as a jumping-off point and kind of “fill in” the rest. This is a weakness in my songwriting, but this method has kept me (for the most part) out of inspirational ruts. Like a lot of songs, many shitty first drafts preceded what ended up on the record (and I’m not entirely sure the words to these songs won’t change further).

The title comes from the opening lines:

My bathroom looks like a werewolf's been there.I think I'm starting to shed.

The imagery here is about looking at the bathroom sink and seeing both the "shed" hair from male pattern baldness and the hair from shaving my beard. This is a thematic nod to the act of growing older, more weary, and slowly trying to conform to the appearance and spirit of a world that is sometimes hostile towards our wild natures. The vocal harmonies interrupting each of the verses are intended to sound like wolves howling (nearly perfect-sounding harmonious wolves that is). The big damn chorus in this song features some electric guitars playing a harmony line to give the BDC a little bit more emotional impact. If you listen, you can hear what they add to the tune.

It’s been a while since I have done a show in the middle of the week. Most musicians around town use weekdays to visit an open mic and work out songs in the company and audience of their fellow local musicians. So it is tough to get something going big before Thursday or Friday if you are playing. That said, The Sleuth were really happy to come to Fitzgerald’s and play for the first time.The folks at Fitzgerald’s have done a lot of work to the place. ‘The Yard’ portion of the venue–once an over-sized plane of dirt and a cheap platform stage–is now a really cool outside bar and venue in its own right. It even features swings to sit in on one side of the bar. It’s weird, but it works and contributes to the quirkiness of the outside venue.The sound system was great and our sound man Justin was on top of everything. I record every show and he even stopped my recorder and brought it to me after I was finished playing to make sure I didn’t forget it. Thanks, Justin!The headliner, Lindsay Clark went on after us and her angelic voice cleansed the air in the room. She really is a lovely singer and we thanked her for travelling all the way from Oregon to come play our dusty little town in Texas. Safe travels, Lindsay!

The following is our stats from the show. Thank you to all who came out!

Setlist:1. The Label on Your Sleeve2. Slip Away (Perfume Genius cover)3. A Werewolf’s Been There4. Lucy, Tell Me a Secret5. The Balcony Song6. Bear-filled Woods7. Getaway (Snitches Get Stitches)8. Grayscale9. Come Back Home10. Fake Pearls11. All of the Nice Things12. Over and Over Again13. I Get So Scared14. The Laboratory

"Hi, Hollis This is Carol from WKEZ. We're having an event down at the station this weekend and we'd love to have you play. It doesn't pay, but you'll get a free beer and exposure."

I cringed. I do not know of a single musician who has not been part of this proposition. Carol, like a lot of well-meaning folks who might say or think they "love" music and "totally support" musicians somehow think that it's acceptable to pay in the invisible currency of exposure. What other profession is solicited in this way? While this is a confounding, insulting, illogical behavior for the many talented, professional musicians trying to earn a living from their craft, this can be explained with an economic analysis of the value of live music:

There are many substitute goods for live music - A substitute good is something which can be obtained that delivers a relatively equal value as that of the primary good. From the audience's perspective, it isn't difficult to imagine the substitute goods available that could replace paying a musician or band:

Playing MP3's or CD's from a computer or stereo

Playing a satellite radio station

Playing a terrestrial radio station

This can be a tough lesson, but the reality is staring us in the face: there is a very small audience that seeks out live music from unestablished artists. Because of this small audience and the number and quality of the substitute goods pushing down artist wages, musicians and singer/songwriters have to rethink what it means to be a performing and working musician. This can include making a real push to sell branded merchandise at shows, teaching private lessons, and changing the format of your act to be more commercially viable (i.e. playing covers).

When these other money-making options are considered, the exposure of playing a free show may seem more attractive. There is also the other option that you don't play non-paying gigs.

Take a stand. Just say "no," as Nancy Reagan might say. No one is forcing you to take these gigs. "Become the change you want to see in the world" as it were. This may lead to many nights of sitting in your rehearsal room or going to a bar and listening to other bands perform live, but what else can be done?

Actually, a lot can be done. The more introspective and thoughtful among us might take a moment to step back and consider why we aren't being offered good, paying gigs. If you find yourself in this position where you are really looking at your music and your act, here are some of the following questions you might ask yourself:

1. Is my band any good? - I have this at number one for a reason: because it seems to be the very LAST thing folks consider when trying to figure out why they aren't getting paid gigs and aren't selling any records. Have you done a live recording and listened to yourself? If the answer to that is: "Oh no, it's weird to hear myself on a recording" then you have a problem. How do others hear your music? Is it nice and fun to listen to? Is it beautiful? Is it technically skillful? Is there anything good about it? Do you play songs people actually enjoy? My guess for most folks is that there is a LOT of work to be done in this area. It's hard to get honest feedback from our friends and loved ones because they will want to say only good things about us. Take a moment to figure out what bands in your area who get paid, consistent gigs are doing right and try to coach up your band and your music to get closer to that.

2. Am I promoting my shows well enough? - Probably not. And the promotion you are doing is annoying or forgettable. Ask yourself: why would a venue owner want to pay you money when you are doing nothing to promote the bottom line? Make each show an event. If you are playing a bill with other bands, try to cross-promote and organize a concerted effort to get your folks out to see the other acts. If you are playing a headlining show, make each one special. Give it a theme. Play games. Wear a costume. Do SOMETHING to make your show worth going to.

3. Am I playing the right places? - This is an interesting question and it is one I have started to ask myself more and more. The traditional route for most gig-seekers is a bar--the thought is that local bars in town are in the best possible position to pay well. Folks like to come in and drink and having the value-add of a live performance keeps people in the bar drinking. The reality is that this doesn't pan out unless you are at the top of your game in terms of your act and your following. The reality is: most folks who go out to a bar find live music to be distracting and annoying. Bar owners and booking managers realize this and there is a trend developing for venues to require you bring in a certain number of people. The methods for tracking this vary, but the message is clear: your utility is not your music, it is your recruitment. This can be disheartening and it should be, so perhaps there is another model where a venue and a performer both win regardless of the musician's "draw." Look for performance opportunities at nontraditional venues. This past December, a friend of mine called me and asked if my holiday band The Reindeer Games might be interested in playing a paid show. Well of course! My friend is an owner of an eminently cool bar and music venue here in town. He said, "Well, it's not at the bar." It turns out, it was at a lovely little independent hardware store in my neighborhood who wanted some holiday music to get more folks from the neighborhood to come and hang out at the store. They set out some wine and cookies next to the battery aisle where we played and the most amazing thing happened: the patrons of the store hung out, listened to music, drank, had a great time, and our band got paid very well.

Here in San Antonio, our music community struggles with forming it's own scene identity and finding a market in the wake of the titan up north, Austin. Perhaps those of us who struggle finding good, paying shows (I count myself in this group) need to get creative about where we are taking our music.

Are you a musician struggling to find a good, paying gig? Are you a musician who is KILLING it on the live scene? I'd love to hear from you.